


This Time It Won't End

by eloiseupstairs



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25576552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloiseupstairs/pseuds/eloiseupstairs
Summary: Seth is dreaming, until he's not.
Relationships: Seth Rollins | Tyler Black/Bray Wyatt
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14
Collections: Multifandom Horror Exchange (2020)





	This Time It Won't End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetcarolanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolanne/gifts).



_When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire._

It's only _after_ Crown Jewel that the nightmares start.

Which makes a depressing kind of sense, Seth thinks, because up until now he's been wholly, obsessively focused, nothing but a pure and clear-eyed concentration on the task of redeeming himself after the disaster that was Hell in a Cell.

But things have, as ever, not gone according to plan, and now that it's all come crashing down, it's so much easier to just fall into despair, the knowledge of his failure a weight carried with him wherever he goes, a burden of his own making.

"I'm fine," he tells everyone, but the dreams come.

A room lit too-bright and the laughter of children like something false and mocking.

"Hi, Seth!" Bray says, brightly, waving.

"Get the fuck away from me," Seth growls.

"Aw, now, don't say that!"

"What are you doing?" Seth asks, suddenly too tired to fight, welcoming the fear like a comfort, something that's at least familiar. "What do you want from me now?"

"Are you scared?" Bray says, tilting his head to one side, eyes widening in exaggerated concern.

"No," Seth lies, and Bray laughs.

"Don't be scared, you silly goose, you're safe here." He smiles. "We can be safe here together."

"I don't..."

"I think someone needs a hug," says Bray, opening his arms, and though Seth takes a step back, it's not fast enough, Bray embracing him tightly, _too_ tightly, and he feels as if he can't breathe. He struggles, tries to push Bray away, but his grip is unyielding, freakishly strong, and Seth's weak. For a moment he panics, but then he remembers he's dreaming. _Give in_ , a voice says and Seth can't control it, can't fight it, not here.

 _It's only a dream_ , he tells himself, _it doesn't matter._

Bray's sweater is scratchy against his face, but his body is thick and warm and solid, and maybe _this_ is all Seth's needed: just something to hold on to.

"I miss you," Bray says, the next night. He sighs theatrically, shrugging his shoulders, mouth formed into a sad little pout. "I miss our games."

"I don't," Seth replies, shaking his head.

"But we had so much fun together, didn't we?"

"What about him?" asks Seth, because he _can_ ask, because none of this is real. "Does he miss me?"

"Oh, you know _him."_ Bray laughs, rolling his eyes, and there's the empty sound of applause, echoing through the room. "He'll always find a way to keep you with him."

"What does that mean?"

"Look inside yourself, Seth," says Bray, suddenly serious. "And you'll find him."

This time, before he leaves, Bray cradles Seth's face between two gloved hands and kisses his forehead, tenderly, lips lingering soft on Seth's skin for just a moment. And then he smiles, like a benediction. "For being _such_ a brave boy."

And even though it's all nonsense, nothing but his subconscious mind toying with him, Seth still can't help himself. "I'm not," he says. "I'm not brave."

"You are," Bray says, and then his voice drops lower. "You are," he repeats. "You're so much stronger than you know."

When Seth wakes, he doesn't get out of bed, but instead lies there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, his mind blank.

"I think," he tells Bray, "that I want more."

Bray giggles, swaying back and forth, pressing one finger to his lips. "Oh, you might give a man ideas, saying such things."

"I need to you understand," Seth says, urgently. "I have to fix this, I have to make this right."

"There's no right to be made, Seth," Bray replies. "But there's always more."

The room flickers into darkness, air rushing out of Seth's lungs like he's been punched, images hot and cold inside his brain: himself, standing somewhere on high, hair tangled like a halo, arms outstretched, blood dripping from his palms and the world on fire around him.

And then all at once the lights are bright, and Bray's standing in front of him, too close. Seth can hear him breathing, and when Bray kisses him, he doesn't hesitate, his mouth open, receiving whatever will be given to him.

Seth can't remember the last time he heard the children laughing, and Bray isn't smiling.

"Are you willing to truly sacrifice?" he asks. "To do what is necessary to become something greater?"

"I thought..." Seth shakes his head. "I thought you wanted to destroy me."

"Oh no, my sweet, sweet boy, never that. We only wanted to remake you, show you what you could become."

"Yeah," Seth says. "I don't know."

"Those people, the _universe_ out there, they don't appreciate you. Aren't you tired, Seth, of doing everything for them and getting nothing in return? Don't you want to show them what they really need?"

"What do they need?"

"A _leader,"_ says Bray. "They need a man like you."

"Like me..."

 _Maybe_ , Seth thinks.

"He can give you everything, Seth. He _wants_ to give you everything. But first, you need to show him what you're willing to do."

 _Kneel_ , says a voice, and Seth breathes in, obeying, lowering himself down as if in prayer, his head bowed as he waits. And then the lights dim and the room turns red and when Seth reaches out it's not Bray's khakis he's fumbling with but striped tights, a gloved hand fisting itself into his hair.

The cock, _his_ cock is thick in Seth's mouth, rough as it pushes into his throat, choking him, but he welcomes it, letting himself be used, merely a vessel in this moment, a conduit to something greater, his destiny awaiting.

He swallows, relishing it, and later, when he wakes up, he swears he can still taste it.

"Do you want to be one with him, Seth?"

"Yes," he says, because this is the true path, the way forward.

"Take this," Bray says, removing the glove that says _HURT_. Seth holds out his hand, and Bray slips it on, easing the leather down over Seth's fingers, fitted smooth, as if it was made to be worn by him. Bray's touch is cool and gentle as he fastens the glove at the wrist, and Seth stares down at the word printed across his own knuckles.

"There will be pain," Bray warns.

Seth nods. "I'm ready."

"You always were," says Bray, and then he smiles, secret and knowing. "Close your eyes," he whispers.

Someone laughs, and the room is dark, and then red, and there's an altar, raised up, and Seth's laid out like a offering, naked and bound, a lamb ready for the knife, and all he can smell is blood, sharp and wet in the air.

There's a weight over him, the intrusion of fingers and then something more solid, more insistent, and this time, there's no demand, no voice saying _let me in,_ because this is where _he_ is, where _he_ lives, inside, and Seth's wide open.

And he takes it, until there's nothing more, nothing left but ashes, until he's burned down, cleansed by fire and shaped into something better, something new.

_Show them the way_ , He commands.

Seth awakens, stepping into the light, the darkness within him complete.


End file.
